Millheim Journal. [volume] (Millheim, Pa.) 1876-1984, 1887-03-10
THE OLD HOUSE.

| 1t was showing ana nOO0dy VINO
has not had personal experience On the
subject, knows what regular New
Hampshire sEow-storm means.
A cloud of flying needles sharply
puncturing your face, wind keen as
the edge of any cimetar, a white, blind
ing vail separating you from the rest OF
the world-these are some of the signs
and symptoms.
And Edgar EYerly felt them in their
most merciless mood, as he stood help
lessly on the edge of a mountain cliff,
staring around him in vain search OF
some familiar landmark.
Il am lost = said he. 'Exactly-and
it serves me right. 1t strikes me that
l had better have staid at home and
faced Kathleen's Valentine party, after
ALL
For, to be frank with the reader, Mr..
EveEly had ignominiously retreated be-
fore his sisters gay Valentine recep-
ton, To the great grief of the half doz
en- pretty young girls who were sojoura
ing ia the house.
DO stay, Ned y pleaded Kathleen
Everly, almost with tears in her eyes.
Stuff and nonsense the young man
had returned, "a man is always at a dis
advantage on such occasions as this.
And never was a worshiper of old ST.
Valentine. Besides, have often Won
dered what those Sigma! Service fellows
did with themselves up on the top of
the mountain in winter time. They
say they're an awfully jolly set of chaps
if once you get at 'em.'
oh, Edgar. you will certainly be
lost said his mother, in panic
Il Lost on Silver Peak That is
good one.r cried out Everly. Wasn't
born and bred under its very shad-
ow ? wonder what you will be say
ing next, you feminines !!
But the uncousciously uttered predic-
ton had come true.
He was, truly and actually, lost on
Silver Peak. No one was altogether
safe in such a bewilderlDg snow storm
as this. Ii was not such an extraordi-
nary Circumstance, if only he had made
! allowance for ii.
But rs he groped blindly with his
stick, vaguely fearful lest he should be
precipitated into some unfathomable
abyss below, the ferule came in contact
with rude stone wall !; the bleating Of
young calves reached his ear.
/ AHA y be cried, exultingly now
! know where I am. 1t is the Old House
| where Farmer Eastwood keeps his
calyes j
The "Old House" was ruined farm
dwelling, built long ago, for the tenn
n, orary accommodation of some old set
tie, who had abandoned it as soon as
moss, BILE formore commodious quarters.
T. a. ood on the edge of a schrubby
thicket If pines and cedars, and no one
ever cam. near it who could help them
selves.
Bnt the on vner-one Mr.. Eastwood g
prosperous amer, who lived on sun
nv plateau halt way down the mountain
Frequently used it for the accommo
dation of his flocks and herds when the
home barnyards W ere full.
MY bovine friends, said Everly, re
gaining his spirits at once. L am sorry
to disturb you, but Il am as great cal
as yourselves on this unfortunate occa
sion. and shelter of any sort Is as I'm
! portaot to me as it is 80 you
| And feeling his way to the low door
way. from which the porch had lon
! since mouldered away, he entered th
Old House.
| Originally it had consisted of tw
| rooms, in the smaller of which three O
four speckled calves were shut, and ES
erly looked disconsolately around hin
standing in the larger apartment.